


Be My Teenage Dream Tonight

by Saasan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Body Image, Body Worship, Cussing, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Humor, I just felt like they wouldn't immediately I guess, I'm sorry there isn't boning, Kissing, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Season/Series 06, mention of Adam because I'm up with the times, the holy trinity of tags lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 16:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saasan/pseuds/Saasan
Summary: How many times can a guy be resurrected by his Super Hot Best Friend before developing a massive crush?  Shiro knows--just in time to be hella awkward.Or: everyone revisits their teenage years.





	Be My Teenage Dream Tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tagteamme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tagteamme/gifts).



> Yup. Katy Perry reference. Pretty sure Keith thinks "Firework" applies to Shiro.

There were a lot of things about himself that Shiro needed to get used to. His hair was white, his eyes were brown, and he was missing an arm (again). Granted, these things paled in comparison to the pure wonder of having a body at all, but the changes caught him off guard constantly. Any glimpse of his reflection caused an almost comical level of double take and the number of times he reached for things with an arm that wasn’t there had probably reached triple digits. When he’d lost his arm the first time, the Galra had replaced it immediately (or perhaps, they had intentionally removed and then replaced it, but he blessedly had limited memory of the event), so he had no experience with the loss of balance and utility that came from missing a limb. The whole situation was utterly disorienting and, just to put a cherry on top, Shiro had overlapping memories to sort through and a few places where there were none at all.

 

There was probably therapy in his future.

 

Still, Shiro was grateful for the physical distractions. They helped occupy his mind and let him hide from the reality of his giant, pulsating, crush on Keith.

 

(Because what the fuck.)

 

(What the FUCK was up with that second puberty.)

 

Now, if Shiro was being completely honest, he’d already had a bit of a crush on Keith. Or something. His relationship with Keith had evolved over the years from mentor, to friend, to family, and this latest development was probably a long time coming but holy quiznak did it ever come in full, pulsating force.

 

Shiro’s clone memories (or Kuron memories, as a few of the Paladins had taken to calling them) were sparse toward the end of his time under Haggar’s control, but he did remember with aching clarity that when Keith had shown up again, he had stammered like an idiot and quite possibly drooled. Shiro generally dismissed Lance’s more colorful euphemisms, but one phrase in particular was highly appropriate: he was thirstier than a camel one mile short of an oasis.

 

And Keith—bless his pure, goddamn heart—was constantly _there_ , hovering in his orbit, tending to him and seeing to his every need, all the while looking delicious and giving Shiro a snack attack (thanks again, Lance). He’d always been an attractive boy, but now he was an attractive _man_ and it did things to Shiro’s insides that were not to be mentioned in polite company. The other day, Keith had bent over and Shiro had prayed his gratitude to the heavens while simultaneously beseeching them for mercy on his weak, sinful soul.

 

To make matters worse, while Keith was the Walking the Embodiment of Sex, Shiro was looking, well, pretty damn terrible. He hadn’t been this awkward since puberty, and at least then the changes were _improvements_. Switching into the clone body had been exhausting (and of course, had lead to Keith having to save his life again), so even under the best of circumstances he wouldn’t have been doing well, but at least when he’d been short an arm before he’d had the prosthetic. He was practically useless, constantly tired and stumbling around, good for nothing but slowing everyone down as they poured their time and resources into safety and communication with their allies.

 

It would be safe to say that Shiro was starting to feel sorry for himself, which he hated doing. He was _alive_. He should be grateful!   Everyone had risked so much to save him, and the only way he could repay them was to stay out of the way as much as possible. And so he did, occasionally taking Yorak (Keith’s new space wolf) on short walks when he felt up to it, and frequently simply hiding in Black.

 

(Which when you think about it was pretty ironic. He was “free” from Black for the first time in what felt like years and here he was, avoiding ~~Keith~~ everyone.)

 

And, speak of the gorgeous devil, who should appear but Keith himself, looking like Adonis and smiling in that stupidly gentle way that made Shiro’s heart hurt and his pants tight.

 

(Goddammit, you are not 15.)

 

“Hey, you doing okay?” Keith asked softly when he peaked into the cockpit, beckoned in after his polite knock. “You disappeared. Should I bring you supper?” His brows were knit with concern and he just _had_ to bite his lip in the most distracting way possible. Shiro glanced away.

 

“I’m fine. A bit tired. You don’t need worry about supper. I’ll get it if I feel up to it,” Shiro said, opting to stare at the floor rather than at his stupidly hot and stupidly nice friend. Whiiich apparently further concerned Keith as he then came over to crouch beside Shiro and place a hand on his knee.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You’ve been hiding a lot lately.”

 

“I’m tired. It’s hard to be in a body again,” he said with a shrug. It was easy to be honest with Keith (about some things). “It’s easier just to rest in here.”

 

Keith chewed his lip, weighing his next words before clearing his throat. “What I really meant was that you’ve been hiding from me. I know everything’s been hard and I want to respect your space, but… Well, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here for you, in whatever way you need me.”

 

“I’m not avoiding you,” Shiro said automatically, because who in their right mind would ever want to avoid someone as insanely spectacular as Keith? Someone with a crush they didn’t have the right to pursue, that’s who.

 

(Which was definitely not Shiro, no sir.)

 

“Yes you are,” Keith whispered, “but it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

 

And _fuck_ that had been the wrong thing to say, because how could Shiro have done that—made Keith look so sad and so tender and so patient, like he was quietly used to rejection and no longer minded that it hurt?   Shiro clutched Keith’s hand before he could rise to leave.

 

“I’m avoiding _me_ ,” he clarified desperately. “There’re a lot of things I’m not used to and I don’t know what I should do or how I should behave, especially around you.”

 

(Shutting up now because a word further would make things awkward. You know, unlike how they are now.)

 

“You don’t need to change anything, Shiro,” Keith said, his eyes still sad but his expression a little stronger.

 

(And how did that hurt even more?)

 

“Look, it’s mostly just this stupid body. It’s like it doesn’t fit right anymore. Hell,” Shiro chuckled humorlessly, “it doesn’t _look_ right anymore. Short an arm, weird hair, every inch scarred. What a mess. God, I must look terrible. It’s a wonder it works at all.”

 

“Shiro, you don’t need to worry about any of that,” Keith said firmly. Shiro tried to look away but Keith’s hand gently guided him back, the touch grounding and electrifying all at once. “Remember how you told me not to give up on myself? That goes for you, too. You’re back, and that’s all that matters. You’ll get used to your body again, I promise.” God, he was so gentle and so beautiful and Shiro didn’t deserve the lightest brush from his fingertips but here he was, comforting and accepting and Shiro could barely hear him over the pounding in his chest.

 

“And really, you look great. I’m sure Adam will be happy to see you,” Keith concluded.

 

Shiro should probably have felt guilty that it took him a full three seconds before he knew what Keith meant. Adam. _That_ Adam. The ex-boyfriend and partner. The one he thought he was going to marry. The one he thought was _the_ one.   The one he hadn’t thought about in… hell, how long had it been since the Kerberos launch? Several years at least. Well, not counting that weird soul-shifting-clone-conciousness-dream and oh fuck was he talking in his sleep or something? Had he given some kind of impression that he missed Adam? Because that ship had sailed.

 

“I...guess he...might?” Shiro said, puzzled. “You know we broke up, right?”

 

“Yeah, sorry sorry, I’m just being stupid,” Keith said, smacking his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I know you guys were really serious and he was a big part of your life and I thought that was, uh, part of the reason you’ve been, um, distant. Sorry.”

 

“Why would that make me distant?” Shiro said, now completely lost.

 

Keith scratched at the back of his head and laughed nervously. “I guess I thought maybe what I said maybe you uncomfortable because of Adam?”

 

Shiro’s stomach churned. Fuck. If there was a conversation he didn’t remember, it was because it took place during their fight, back when Haggar had complete control. God only knows what kinds of horrible things he said to Keith. If Keith said anything in retaliation, Shiro was certain it was more than justified. Time for damage control. “What did you say that would make me uncomfortable?”

 

“Well,” Keith hesitated, biting his lip. “When I confessed.”

 

Oh. Oh fuck.

 

A stray nerve twitched beneath Shiro’s left eye. Keith had confessed and Shiro couldn’t fucking remember it. A new low had been reached.

 

“I didn’t say it because I needed you to say it or anything like that and I wasn’t trying to, god, come onto you or something. Fuck. I’m making this more awkward. I said it because it’s true, and um, you don’t need to say anything back. Or whatever. Fuck. Just know that I meant it and I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

 

Shiro stared at Keith. Keith stared at his boots.

 

“Uh. When did this happen?” Shiro said in a daze.

 

“You don’t remember the fight?” Keith asked, a hesitance and a worry in his face.

 

Shiro shook his head. “I have most of my memories, but the things that happened after the witch took over are almost entirely blank.”

 

“Fuck, I probably should have guessed that,” Keith mumbled, more to himself than Shiro. He was now sporting a truly impressive blush and he stammered some unintelligible things before saying, “I thought you were feeling uncomfortable because I told you I love you.”

 

“H-how long would you have let me go without saying anything?! Th-that’s insane!” Probably not the right response. “God, I’m so sorry I left you in suspense like that. Shit, Keith. I’m so sorry.” A slightly better response.

 

(Still not good.)

 

“You’re not uncomfortable?” Keith asked shyly.

 

“I’m very uncomfortable but not because of that,” Shiro said, eyes wide. He licked his lips and found he was not able to articulate further, so he nodded vigorously (which failed to help).

 

“Is it because of the scar…?” Keith asked, more than a little lost.

 

“Yes! Well no. You’re insanely hot and it’s super distracting and I feel awful about the scar but this is all me not you so don’t worry,” he said in a rush. “I can’t believe I hurt you and I really can’t believe you love me after everything I’ve put you through.”

 

“It’s hardly your fault that you died,” Keith said reasonably, suppressing a smile. “Or got mind-controlled by an evil space witch.”

 

Shiro squeezed Keith’s hand, pleased to note that he’d never pulled it free. “Keith, I’ve been going crazy from everything that’s happened, but what’s been craziest is how I feel about you. You’ve always been beautiful but now it’s hard to even look at you and I know I don’t deserve you and I’ve loved you a thousand different ways since the day we first met. It’s always been wonderful and it’s always been changing and this last change has been,” Shiro interrupted himself to swallow. “It’s been the most encompassing thing I've ever experienced and I don't know what to do it about. I don’t deserve you.”

 

Keith stroked Shiro’s face again and the same grounding comfort and thrilling electricity flowed across his skin. “Can I be the judge of that?” he asked. His hand settled behind Shiro’s head and it pulled him subtly closer.

 

It was quite possible that Shiro was going to say something respectably suave at this juncture, but Lance—summoned as he so often was by the gods of mischief—barged in while declaring supper ready and available (“just like you kiddos, apparently”) and sauntered out. The mood broken, Keith rose with a smile and asked Shiro if he felt up to food and, to his surprise, he was. Shiro left Black 10,000 pounds lighter than when he'd entered, and he even remembered to open the hatch with his left hand.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

Keith's hand was under Shiro's shirt and it totally wasn't his fault.

 

Seriously.

 

They'd gone to supper and he'd managed to coax Shiro into eating nearly a full plate worth of food before they both conceded defeat and Keith escorted the increasingly tired Shiro back to his bunk and tucked him into bed. And then Shiro had made a noise of protest when Keith hesitated at the door and that settled the matter quite eloquently: Keith would be staying with Shiro.

 

(Hopefully forever.)

 

It was barely seven o'clock (or whatever the equivalent was on this particular planet) when Shiro's head hit the pillow and Keith figured he'd lie down for a while and then get up and perhaps read or do something on a tablet. Instead, he woke up sometime after midnight, body curled around Shiro, arm swung possessively across his stomach, hand sneaking higher under Shiro's shirt.

 

Again, not his fault. He'd just been cold. Or something.

 

And anyway, he was awake now, so he was definitely going to remove his hand because nothing had actually been discussed yet and fuck fuck fuck those abs were every bit as perfect as Keith had ever imagined and okay, removing his hand now. Any second now. Any...second...

 

Shiro sighed in his sleep and rolled over into Keith. For a heartbeat, Keith thought he’d woken up, but the Paladin slept on, nuzzling down into the crook of Keith’s neck as his breathing continued, slow and steady. God, he loved this man.

 

(And it had only taken him two years sitting on a space whale and talking to his mom to realize it.)

 

Shiro’s shifting had moved Keith’s hand even further into the territory of the Forbidden Realm and Keith had to stifle a gasp when he accidentally grazed over a nipple. Squeezing his eyes shut (and reminding himself not to squeeze anything else), he slowly withdrew his hand, compromising with himself by letting his arm drape over Shiro’s back. Fuck. Even over his shirt, Keith could feel firm planes of muscles and he couldn’t help stroking down and pulling Shiro just that tiny bit closer.

 

“Feels nice,” Shiro mumbled.

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” Keith said softly. Shiro muttered something incomprehensible and burrowed deeper into Keith’s neck.

 

(Just break my fucking heart why don’t you.)

 

Keith’s chest was blossoming with heat and tenderness for this man. “I love you,” he whispered.   He kissed Shiro’s forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

 

Shiro made an aborted motion with his shoulder and then stilled. “Fuck,” he muttered.

 

He’d forgotten he was missing an arm.

 

“If you lie on your back, I’ll put my head on your chest so you can wrap your left arm around me. How’s that?” Keith offered gently.

 

Shiro rolled over and Keith immediately snuggled in. It was bliss—the sound of that beloved heart, thumping steadily beneath his ear.   He relaxed into the embrace but Shiro remained stiff, awkward. Keith was about to ask if he needed Keith to move when Shiro broke the silence.

 

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

 

“For what?” Keith asked. He’d never been more comfortable or more satisfied in his entire life. What could Shiro possibly be apologizing for?

 

“For being like this. For being broken when you found me.”

 

Keith shot up and took Shiro’s face in his hands. “No,” he said fiercely. “Never. Never apologize for being hurt. You’re not broken. Not to me. I love you. I love you exactly the way you are. You have no idea how,” Keith’s voice broke off with a half-swallowed sob. “Shiro, you have no idea how precious you are to me. You’re here. That’s it. That’s all that matters.” Shit. His hands were shaking and he was crying. Way to be a pillar, Keith.

 

Shiro’s eyes glittered in the dark and he cupped his hand to Keith’s cheek. “Kiss me,” he said softly.

 

Trembling, Keith bent down as Shiro guided them together, lips pressing gently, hesitating, and then slotting in place with a perfection that tasted like heaven and home. Keith was _meant_ to kiss Shiro. He was sure of it.

 

“Keith,” Shiro whispered against his lips. He pulled him down again and Keith gladly went, opening his mouth for Shiro’s questioning tongue and moaning quietly. He had no idea how long they lay together, burning slow and bright and warm, stopping at last to breathe.

 

“What is it you want, baby?” Shiro asked, mouthing at Keith’s jaw.

 

“Ph-physically, or something else?” Keith shivered. That deep voice, hot on his neck, tingled down his spine and kindled needs he was eager to explore.

 

“Anything. Everything. Name whatever you want from me and it’s yours.”

 

“Then be mine,” Keith said quickly, pressing the words out before he lost his nerve. “In e-every way.”

 

Keith felt the smile on his neck. “I think I like the sound of that. But,” Shiro said, stroking his hand through Keith’s hair and smiling wryly, “I don’t think we’ve got the supplies for _every_ way.”

 

 

Keith was grateful for the flimsy amount of light in this corner of Black’s storage compartments as it meant his answering blush was _hopefully_ hidden.

 

“I-I didn’t m-mean it like _that_ ,” he stammered. “I just, er, I just want to be _with_ you.”

 

“Keith Kogane, are you asking me out?” Shiro asked, his voice failing to be serious.

 

“Yes, you dork, I want you to date me,” Keith said, rolling his eyes (and maybe screaming internally because holy shit he was dating _Takashi fucking Shirogane_ someone please tell his 16 year old self no don’t that kid would implode from shock).

 

“Well then, what would you like to do with your boyfriend?” Shiro smiled.

 

Keith had straddled one of Shiro’s thighs at some point, and Shiro now took advantage of the opportunity to press up. Keith gasped in surprise at the sudden pressure against his erection and he rolled his hips down on reflex. Shiro nipped his neck and growled in satisfaction. His hand had slipped down and was toying with the edge of Keith’s shirt, which was frankly a fantastic idea. Keith sat back to remove the offending clothing and tugged on Shiro’s shirt in turn.

 

“Can we do this with the lights on?” he asked. He had a feeling Shiro might not be comfortable with that, but damn did he ever need to see that Body yesterday. A boy could ask.

 

“I…,” Shiro’s voice faltered.

 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Keith said, kissing Shiro’s forehead, “but you’ll get to see me naked, too.”

 

There was the barest pause. “...can we do this with the lights on?” Shiro asked, his voice very nearly a squeak.

 

Keith chuckled as he fumbled with a light panel and it was time for Keith to die happy because. Damn.

 

(Damn.)

 

Keith had gotten a few (carefully avoided) glimpses of Shiro’s body over the years—communal showers, skin-tight space spandex, the works—but nothing compared to the glory that was shyly spread out before him. Only, what was that pained expression?

 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Keith said, caressing Shiro’s cheek. “Is this okay?” Shiro nodded faintly and Keith kissed his way down Shiro’s neck and chest, pausing on every scar (and perhaps each nipple). “ _God_ , you have no idea.”

 

Shiro hoisted himself up on his elbow and leaned forward to capture Keith’s lips again with his own. “You too, baby,” he said. “Lie down for me, okay?”

 

“I wasn’t finished yet,” Keith pouted with a grin, lying down anyway. Gentle lips descended on him and Shiro mimicked Keith’s path, kissing his way down Keith’s chest.

 

“I’ve wanted to do this from the second you came back,” Shiro murmured. “Always thought you were beautiful but this is...wow. Yeah. It’s um. Yeah,” he finished, somehow embarrassing himself more than Keith with the praise. He tried to shift his weight and swayed forward.

 

Keith caught him. “Hey there, I got you,” Keith murmured. He felt a huff of frustration against his neck and it burned him a little, knowing that this wasn’t as amazing for Shiro as it was for him, even if it was only because Shiro didn't have the control over his body he wanted to. “It’s alright, Shiro. Let’s go slow, okay? We don’t have the ‘supplies’ anyway.”

 

Shiro’s body was taunt with tension. He breathed out slowly and tucked himself tighter around Keith.

 

“I used to be really good at this.”

 

The deprecation of the past tense hurt, but the sentiment was full of a promise that turned Keith’s bones to jelly and he laughed nervously. “Ahaha, that’s uh, that’s good to know. I’m uh, I’m looking forward to it.”

 

Smooth as fuck.

 

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said as he got up onto his elbow again. “You deserve better.”

 

Now _that_ was objectively 100% not true, but Keith had a feeling Shiro wasn’t going to believe him anytime soon, so as long as they were going to be apologizing and being insecure, he had something to add.

 

“I’m sorry for bringing up Adam. I know you two are completely done. I mean, you didn’t even send a “hi” message to him when Sam Holt went home. I was just wanting to gauge your reaction. Sorry. It was super childish of me,” Keith admitted.

 

Shiro’s face was a picture of puzzled amusement. “You’re jealous,” he laughed with realization.

 

“Yup. Now, lie down back down so I can fulfill teenage Keith’s dreams by falling asleep on your pecs,” Keith said, poking Shiro in the side and helping him resettle.

 

“You really don’t need to be jealous,” Shiro told him, lifting up his arm so Keith could snuggle in closer. “I’m serious. I don’t deserve you.”

 

Keith sighed. “Shiro, I should warn you right now: I disagree, and I am fully prepared to kiss you until you change your mind.”

 

Shiro chuckled and tucked his arm around Keith. “That sounds like a lot of work. I might take a lot of convincing.”

 

“I’m counting on it,” Keith grinned. “Now shush.”

 

“Right, right, gotta make teenage Keith’s dreams come true. I’ll be quiet,” Shiro promised.

 

“Good,” Keith said.

 

And this time if Keith’s hand ended up under Shiro’s shirt, it might have been on purpose.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Was this actually teen? Maybe mature? I dunno. I do know it wasn't explicit, and for that I am very, very sorry.
> 
> I owe you a boning fic, Phaltu/Tagteamme/my idol ;^; Sorry that it took me three years to write this. And I still kinda hate it??? XD I dunno. Just one of those things.
> 
> And now I'll be heading back to your regularly scheduled werewolf porn. 
> 
> As always, you can follow me or poke me on tumblr: decidedlysarah.tumblr.com


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